


Prison

by Apricots_from_Nara



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Battery using an Altmode, M/M, Oral Sex, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Tarn's Voice being used to arouse somone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-11 22:51:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7073725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apricots_from_Nara/pseuds/Apricots_from_Nara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pharma is again short on his quota, and this time Tarn will not let it go with out some punishment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prison

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time posting explicit rape. I usually skim over it but, well.... Might as well take this final step. Honesty I don't think this is the worst thing I have posted. 
> 
> I hope this is at least written... in a nice way? Not romanticized or anything like that.

“Short again, Pharma.” Tarn said, voice smooth. He rested his ped on Pharma’s back, the Jet on his hands and knees, bowing to try and lessen his punishment.

“I didn't even raise the number this time. Yet you managed to be three short. Three. Thats far too many.” Tarn pressed down hard, watching as Pharma fought to keep him up.

“Please. Tarn... I won’t...” Pharma winced, his limbs shaking and finally collapsing. He clenched his jaw as his main engine began to crack under Tarn’s weight. 

“Yes you won’t. Because I will make you remember.” he slammed his pede down, Pharma’s engine cracking and sparkling. Pharma made a pained grunt, holding back any major sounds of pain.

“I will make it so you have to walk back, through the snow. And then some.” Tarn remained calm and cool, removing his food and crouching down beside the jet, who stayed where he was.

Tarn pet his helm, before slamming it hard into the smooth, and cold floor. Tarn started humming, tempo just right to cause Pharma's spark to flutter and pulse, to give him a sense of it being smothered.

When Pharma tried to shove Tarn off him, the tank repeated the action. Once, twice, three times, satisfied with the jet was stunned. Tarn got up.

“You are in luck Pharma. My cog is not quite done yet.” He stood over Pharma, and transformed.

Pharma shrieked under the large tank. Tarn had made sure his treads would not touch Pharma, and thus crush the medic. That was to much damage. Being crushed would look suspicious, but this would make simple, general damage. Scuffing, cracked plating. Pharma could explain that away with a crash easily.

His t-cog was burning hot. It felt good as he had long since learned to savor the feeling. It meant a new fix. It could only take one more transformation now. That was all he needed though. He rotated one of his treads, turning slowly. Pharma struggled under him, the feeling of him trying to get free was pleasant. Almost erotic.

He ground the jet former into the floor, Pharma’s yells and curses getting panicked and pained. Tarn spun his tread faster, and Pharma's yells became staticy.

He did not stop until the struggling grew weak. It took a moment, but finally he turned back, his t-cog popped and fizzled in his side, smoking. It burned horribly, but Tarn did not care. It felt good. Very good.

Pharma was as he had hoped. Scuffed and bloody. He lay in a pool of his energon, the smell of the burning cog and the fuel leaking from Pharma’s misfiring engine was intoxicating. Made him light headed. 

High.

Tarn crouched down behind Pharma, taking his hips in hand. “Pharma, Pharma. So pretty even like this. Maybe even more so?” His pitch changed from the smothering tone, to one with an erotic flare. Pharma shuddered, hips jerking away from Tarn’s large hands.

Tarn ignored his struggling, humming low, his voice almost throbbing. He pet Pharma's aft, the sharp panel that covered it retraced in response to his voice. Tarn splayed his hand on the small of the jets back, now reciting Megatron’s Earliest works.

“If you could step outside the system, you would recognize it for what it is: a Prison.” Tarn purred.

“Damn you....” Pharma snarled, shuddering as his panel opened, valve slick with lubricants and swollen with synthetic desire. 

Tarn slid a servo inside, making sure the valve was not only wet, but loose enough. He rubbed the roof of the heated valve slowly, gently compared to his earlier actions. Satisfied, his own panel opened, his spike pressurizing to rest along the back of Pharma's aft.

“Worse then that, it is a prison full of willing prisoners.” Tarn lifted Pharma’s hips, spike pressing against Pharma’s white folds, pressing against the rim. The jet was shaking from pleasure and energon loss.

His struggles were renewed. Pharma tried to get his servos some traction, so he could pull himself out of Tarn’s grip. But the floor was wet and slick. He found no suck thing. He whimpered as Tarn pressed in, a large nob, on the underside of the thick spike rubbing the ring of his valve. It was one of several.

Tarn knew it was not a whimper of pain. The nobs were meant to please. He leaned forward, more and more of his spike pushing into Pharma’s burning hot valve.

“And not only are you a prisoner within the system...” Tarn trust all the way in, spike pressing hard on Pharma's ceiling node. The jets belly was no doubt bulging form the length of it.

“You are a prisoner within your own body.” Tarn rolled his hips, hard. Pharma shrieked, body convulsing as he overloaded. With Pharma’s struggles renewed even more, Tarn began his brutal pace. He leaned over Pharma, hands resting on either side of him, the weight of his frame acting as all the leverage he needed.

Tarn had no need to try to make it feel good. His spike was long and thick, modded just right for any mech his size or smaller. He took pride being a generous lover, making sure his partners always overloaded at least twice.

Even if it was punishment, it had to feel good. It made the lesson stick harder. Especially with a bot as prideful as Pharma.

Pharma’s struggles quickly died out, wanton moans escaping him. He pressed his face to the now sticky floor, optics rolled back ever so slightly, chewing his lips.

Pharma’s valve was tight, and it almost seemed to suck Tarn in with how his calipers rippled. “You like this Pharma.” Tarn purred, chuckling as Pharma only let out a staticky cry, his legs curling and servos leaving smears in his drying energon. Tarn nuzzled him, thrusts now so hard, the jet’s aft was crumpling from the force.

That would be harder to write off. But Pharma was clever.

Pharma vented a sob, hands now clutched to fists. Tears of either pain, or pleasure filling his optics. Maybe it was both, with how hard Tarn was trusting inside of him, with how hard he was rattling his battered frame. His wings fluttered like they always did when a good, strong overload was beginning.

Next time Tarn would take his time. Make it romantic. That was of course if Pharma did his job.

Tarn leaned in, his spike swelling with his own impending release. His voice was rough as he spoke.

“In truth, it is about control.” 

Pharma screamed, frame arching as he came, valve gushing onto the floor and Tarn’s thighs. A good, strong overload to make it stick. Tarn gave a few more, deep thrusts before he came as well, filling Pharma’s valve with transfluid.

He pulled out, hands on the jet’s thighs, leaning back so he could see his work. Pharma’s valve was utterly used, leaking Tarn’s cum and a little energon from the to rough interface. He pulled Pharma up, making him crouch down so it could leak out of his frame.

“Clean my spike.” Tarn said, getting up with a grunt. He stood before Pharma, watching as the jet sloppily licked at his spike, then take him into his mouth. Pharma deep throated Tarn, sucking a moment before pulling away. he coughed once, then looked up at the decepticon with hollow optics, Tarn's transfluid forming a puddle under him.

“Good. I will give you one more chance. Same number as before. Don’t fail me, and the next time we meet will be pleasant. A good chat. Some nice high grade. Understand?”

Pharma nodded, a little glint coming back into his blue optics. How stubborn. How hard he was to break. That was fine though, a broken bot was not fun to talk with. And Pharma was good at conversation.

The medic stood, and limped out of the room, the pet moving past him to lick up the mess.

\----

“What happened to you?” Ambulon stared in shock as Pharma washed his frame off.

The jet paused a moment. “I crashed. A freak snow storm caught me off guard. Its nothing to worry over.” he sighed. “How is the patient in room 12?”

“Holding steady, but not awake yet.”

“Hmm. Good.”


End file.
